


Somebody Named Will

by R Cooper (rispacooper)



Category: Original Work, Play It Again Charlie
Genre: Bad Spanish, Bathroom Sex, Christmas, Coda, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Slash, Romance, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rispacooper/pseuds/R%20Cooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Will and Charlie's first Christmas together and he couldn't be more excited. Unfortunately, Will and Charlie's family are not getting along. How ever will Charlie calm Will down?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody Named Will

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paraxdisepink](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=paraxdisepink).



> This is set in an Original universe of mine. This story would actually take place six months or so after the main novel ends. (The novel is called, Play It Again, Charlie, which I forgot to mention. Oops. But you don't need to read it to read this.)
> 
> In the book, Charlie is a brokenhearted, wounded soul, and rather grouchy at that until a hyper, smart-ass twink who likes to watch classic movies moves into his building. Will has no problem going for what he wants, in bed or out of it, and he wants Charlie. If only he ever had any kind of real relationship, because that is what Charlie wants, and what he is afraid to ask for.

Will sat as still as he could possibly make himself sit and tried to follow the conversation of the women moving around the kitchen, but since they were talking in a pretty but fast combination of English and Spanish he didn't follow much. He couldn't sit still for very long either, no matter how much he wanted to. The stool he was on was _hard_ and had some sort of defect; every time he moved even the tiniest bit it rocked back and forth and when it did all the women would pause and _look_ at him.

He had a feeling that he wasn't supposed to be in the kitchen with them. All the men in Charlie's incredibly large extended family were either in the living room watching some war movie in terrifying surround sound or outside doing... farm work... or chores... or talking about doing farm work and chores, he wasn't really sure which. Whatever they were doing out there, it was probably something butch and manly that involved sipping beer and even more talk in Spanish. Apparently even the kids and the husbands and girlfriends who weren't blood relatives all somehow knew Spanish, making Will the only one who didn't.

So while he would have followed Charlie out there—watching Charlie do sweaty physical labor sounded like fun—Will hadn't been sure that he was supposed to be out with the men either, so he'd stayed in the kitchen to watch a whole lot of women argue and talk about... whatever they were arguing and talking about.

Maybe it was him. Maybe they hated him.

He swallowed and tried to smile as he wobbled on his stool again. One of the older ladies, someone whose name he couldn’t remember but he thought she was either Charlie's aunt or great aunt, who had fried her hair with some kind of cheap home perm when any perm wouldn't have suited her face and everyone knew gray hair required special care, didn’t seem to care for his attempt to be friendly. She sniffed and turned away.

Will ducked back down over the corn meal batter, or _something_ , that he had been told to stir. It seemed like the kind of job people gave to kids who asked to help. Telling them he couldn't cook when he’d walked into the kitchen earlier probably hadn't raised their opinion of him. He wasn’t sure at this point that their opinion of him _could_ be raised.

He stirred for a few minutes, perking up as Katia came in, but when she only nodded at him before heading through the pack of steely-eyed she-wolves toward her grandmother, he sighed.

He'd thought Charlie's sisters had, maybe, started to like him. Of course, he hadn't seen them as a group for a few months, and he hadn't directly spoken to them himself since officially, _officially_ , moving the last of his belongings into Charlie's apartment.

The small, warm thrill that normally went through Will when he thought of that, of living with Charlie, didn't do much for the sick feeling in his stomach when all the women glanced his way again.

He stirred harder, smiling as brightly as he could, not that they seemed to like his smile, but why would they Will, he asked himself, they weren't hot pieces in a bar. The skinny bitch—one—with the bad perm sniffed again. As if the air around Will smelled. But he tried to be positive; maybe that bitch had a cold.

Or maybe he was trapped in the mostly Mexican version of _Sabrina_ or possibly _Rebecca_ , and he was playing the part of the girl who didn't belong. It wasn't exactly what he'd thought his Christmas with Charlie would be like.

He resisted the urge to sniffle. Charlie wasn't around to appreciate his dramatics anyway. Noooo. Charlie was out with the men, being manly or whatever, and Will was stuck in here with a bunch of women who didn't like him.

He couldn't even go play with Alicia; once her cousins had arrived she'd run off to play with the other kids. He could just hear them screaming outside over the rumble of the movie and the women's raised voices. It wasn’t the Christmas Will was used to, that was quieter, just him and his sister and a tree in her apartment, but it could have been pleasant. He’d always thought it would be nice to have a big, loving family gathered for the holidays. It could still be nice, he thought, even with the dozens of people moving through Charlie's grandmother's big house, because there was a tree in the other room and in here there was the smell of food and the hum of the women talking. If only anyone would talk to _him_.

He knew what it was; they didn't approve of him. So what if he was a hair coloring genius and, sort of, thought gardening could be interesting and was rapidly turning it into his new hobby? That didn’t matter to them. To them he was still too young, and a man, and he didn't speak Spanish, and there was no way he was good enough for their Charlie. There was no way that he ever could be.

Maybe they were right.

He _did_ sniffle. It made the stool shake.

They _loved_ Charlie. Will had known that. He'd _seen_ that. But when he'd met Charlie's sisters in that first noisy, frantic gathering, he hadn't understood what Charlie's _abuela_ had been trying to tell him. They had seemed just like any group of siblings bickering and being silly. He had thought it was cute, if scary. But here, today, with everyone gathered for Christmas, they'd _swarmed_ around Charlie. And not just his sisters, but _everybody_. They surrounded him when he walked in, looked up to him, asked him opinion on everything from the weather to their kids. Charlie really was the head of this family after his grandmother, he actually, truly was _the man_ , and... it was just like Charlie not to mention something like this when it was clearly important.

Will forgot his emo moment of despair and focused on the injustice of having to always drag every word out of Charlie when it came to relevant, important information. Like useful tips about his family. He could have dropped a hint at least, like, _By the way, Will, my family kind of love to bits and they aren’t going to think you are good enough for me, but just ignore them, okay?_

Charlie was like... a prince or something. Like Charles Boyer or Omar Sharif, and Will knew he wasn't good enough to match that. He did hair and watched movies. Well, okay, he looked damn good and he did hair _really_ well. But they were right in a way. He _didn't_ belong here and they were just thinking what he had always kind of suspected, that he wasn't enough for Charlie. Charlie was so smart and so professional and caring and sexy and....

Will frowned and stuck out his bottom lip, which Charlie wasn't around to see either, because Charlie had gotten pulled away, again, to go do family stuff with everybody but Will, and this was no way to spend their holiday.

He wanted to go home.

Home. Which was a tiny little ground floor apartment full of Charlie's books and now Will's extensive DVD collection—finally out of storage at his sister's—and one cat. Home for Christmas, their first Christmas, which was supposed to be some sort of milestone, right? So they'd had a miniature tree that Charlie had asked Will to pick out, and they'd opened their presents on Christmas Eve Eve so they could spend Christmas Eve with Will's sister at her apartment.

Will had put on _Shop Around The Corner_ to watch Charlie watch it for the first time. Then he'd unwrapped the nice new leather wrist cuff Charlie had gotten him and had felt stupid for getting Charlie a tie, though it was a _real_ tie, a beautiful power tie in blues and greens to bring out Charlie's coloring, those rich, dark eyes and that gray-streaked brown hair.

Distinguished. That was how Charlie had looked when Will had made him model it. Charlie _would_ be the guy who looked good as he got older. In the tie he was like... well... the word “hot” came to mind and stuck there. Then Will had put on _Meet Me In St. Louis_ for the ending Christmas scene, only they hadn't made it that far into the movie because Charlie had seemed to find Will's new cuff as fascinating as Will had found Charlie's new tie, and not even halfway through Will had ended up on his back on the floor in front of the tree, with Charlie stifling a laugh and messing around with Will’s belt at the same time.

“William?” The accent more than his name snapped Will out of the memory of a much better Christmas than what he was currently enduring and made him sit up straight on his hard-ass, wobbly stool. He had long since stopped trying to get Charlie’s Nana to call him Will.

Charlie's Nana, and most of the other women, was staring at him. He gulped.

“That's enough. _Buen trabajo_. _Gracias_.” She patted his hand—a meaner person would have said she smacked it lightly—to make him release the spoon and someone else took the bowl. She had to be eighty at least and yet that “pat” had had some real power behind it.

“You were lost in thought. What were you thinking about?” Will turned to see Melissa—Missy as Charlie and almost everyone else called her, pouring herself a glass of red and it wasn't even noon. He wondered if he could ask for one. A drink sounded fabulous. But he couldn't tell if she was being catty or was just tipsy and didn't realize how nosy she sounded. Of course, Charlie's sisters were nosy everyday, so the wine might just be making things worse for him.

“I….” Shit. He totally blanked on any kind of a lie. “Uh... Charlie,” he blurted out honestly and that bad perm great aunt of doom woman made that sniffing sound again. Will glared at her and then tried to hide it by sending a quick look to Charlie's grandmother.

She was giving him that stare, that stare she'd given him when he had met her, months and months ago. _Her_ hair was silver gray and back in a long, smooth, simple braid that she made look elegant, and her festive red and green apron made her black eyes sparkle more than the diamonds at her ears. But like she had back then, she frowned.

Will looked at himself. He had tried to dress down, conservatively if not straight. Dress shoes, jeans, a button down and a blazer and scarf that he'd removed once he'd gotten warm. He was still wearing Charlie's present and it was visible since he'd rolled up his sleeves when he’d offered to help around the kitchen.

“What about Charlie?” Ann was having a drink too. She always frowned, but this one felt personal, worried. Will looked over. Katia had a beer, so he guessed the beer wasn't just for the men. He licked his lips in a not-so-subtle hint and tried not to look too longingly toward the door that led outside, where Charlie had gone and abandoned him here to this inquisition.

“Well, this... this is out first Christmas... uh... together.” Charlie had said that they all knew, right? But _oh_ , everyone's faces when he said that. It was just like when he and Charlie had first walked into the living room and all those uncles and cousins had greeted Charlie and then taken their time staring at Will. It wasn't quite a “going to kick the queer's ass” stare, but it hadn't exactly been welcoming either.

All Charlie had had to deal with was Will's one totally cool and gay-friendly sister. It was so unfair.

“I didn't expect all of this... I guess,” he finished quietly. “Not that's it bad. It's totally fun. Really. Uh, the stirring. And everything.”

“ _Siguen siendo como recienes casados_. _Desean solamente ser solos_.” Charlie's grandmother said something that made a few of them cackle. Then she looked significantly at Katia before going back to her cooking and talking with the rest of the older women. Will felt himself getting warm. Great. Now his face was red. At least his hair still looked good.

“Want to know what she said?” Katia asked him, leaning on the counter at his side. Before today, Will would have said that Katia liked him since he got along with her daughter. He didn't think he'd ever been so wrong.

“Do I?” he wondered out loud on a sigh, and shifted in his seat. Katia seemed confused. “All I know is that old lady with the horrible hair keeps calling me a mariposa. I thought that meant butterfly.” He'd watched _Dora_.

“It does. And it doesn't....” Katia shook her head and glared, Will assumed at him.

“ _Tia_ Rosa never shuts up,” Ann leaned in to share, and not quietly. “ _Ay, Anita, you're still not married_. I need a drink.”

“You have a drink,” Missy pointed out. It was almost normal, like how they had been back at Charlie's—at Charlie and Will’s—apartment, before they had all apparently decided they hated Will. Ann chugged her wine then held up her empty glass to indicate her need for a refill. The woman might have bad taste in clothes and pillows, but she might also be Will's favorite. How he wished his feelings were returned.

“ _Debemos enseñar a William cocinar_ ,” Nana called out, interrupting the sisters just as Missy dutifully refilled Ann's wine glass. Will hid a scowl when he heard his name.

“Nana, you can't just….” Katia started to say, or argue, although Charlie had said to never, ever argue with his grandmother, only to stop when the outside door opened. All the women either went quiet or lowered their voices, though it was only Missy's husband Daniel coming in, followed by Charlie.

Will instantly sat up, watching Daniel slip by like he couldn't get out of that kitchen fast enough. Charlie stayed by the door to take off his coat and lay it over a chair. He did that neatly, unlike when he was home, probably because of his grandmother. There wasn't anything Charlie wouldn't do for his _abuela_ , including taking her calls in the middle of sex. It was both cute and annoying, kind of like everything about Charlie. Though today, because Will needed it to be, he was leaning mostly toward it being cute.

Charlie had worn a dress shirt, plain white of course because Charlie didn’t believe in colors the way Will did, but he had left the top two buttons open. The collar button and the one below it. Will's pulse picked up. He loved it when Charlie did that, liked to stare at his throat, the hint of tan skin and prickly chest hair, and imagine kissing Charlie there, or maybe biting him a little, though he hadn't done that yet.

Making Charlie look even yummier was the fact that whatever Charlie had been doing outside hadn't gotten him dirty, but it had made him flushed and faintly sweaty. Will licked his lips at the pretty picture, then frowned faintly because he'd heard that working in the cold could make people sick.

Charlie didn’t look sick at the moment. He looked healthy and strong and hot as hell. He practically towered over his grandmother as he kissed the top of her head and Will stopped examining him for signs of future illness—Charlie's anxiety must be rubbing off on him—and swept his gaze to Charlie's big hands as he patted her shoulders, and then to that light in his eyes as he looked over.

God, Charlie was good-looking. It wasn't just the hair, though Charlie had _finally_ let Will cut it shorter—not too severe, just enough to show off the strong lines of his face, how _serious_ he looked when he frowned, which was most of the time. 

Some days, Will was reasonably certain that Charlie's face had gotten stuck in a mild scowl after that whiny boring bitch Mark had left him. It was why Will was always pressing his fingertips to Charlie's skin to smooth out that line between Charlie's eyes, or saying stupid things just trying to get one of those smiles out of him. When Charlie smiled he was Gary Cooper in _Ball of Fire_. The thought made Will let out a sigh, since that of course made him Barbara Stanwyck. He could live with that.

“I told you. _Recienes casados_.” Nana said something else in Spanish and the furrow in Charlie's brow got deeper. Will tore his eyes away from Charlie’s and turned away only to immediately rock in place on his stupid stool. Charlie's sisters were watching Charlie too, their displeasure switching to adoring smiles as he made his way over to them.

Ann handed him Katia's beer without a word and Katia made an angry face but got herself a new one without protesting. Will had a feeling he was staring, goggling even. His eyes were getting seriously dry. But whoa, they did not act like that the rest of the time, subdued and eager and _sweet_.

“Did you see Taylor out with Alicia?” Missy asked her brother and suddenly they were talking about the kids and what they were doing in school. The talk was in English, not that Will had anything to contribute. He knew Taylor was Charlie's nephew, Missy and Daniel's son, though he hadn't met him. Charlie was nodding however, with that little interested quirk of his eyebrow. He didn't seem to have noticed the beer thing. He probably hadn't, sometimes the man was absolutely blind to the obvious.

Will drummed his fingers on the counter.

Charlie's sisters, his bossy, argumentative sisters, were in a circle around Charlie, asking for, well, demanding and competing for, his attention and advice. Even Ann, and she was nearly as tall as Charlie and twice as intimidating and dressed like... well... sister needed help. Will longed to go through her closet and throw things out, but she wasn’t interested in him right now. Like her sisters, for now she was all about her brother. They wanted to know Charlie's thoughts on everything, their kids, their boyfriends, or husbands, or lack of either, even what was for dinner.

Will knew for a fact that they had all spoken to Charlie in the past week too. None of this was news to Charlie but he was dealing patiently with all of them, letting them monopolize his time even though he probably needed to rest his hip after working outside and hadn’t had a chance to tell them a single thing about what was going on in his life, with Will or with his work. 

Inexplicably irritated with them for that, Will took his gaze away, not that they noticed, and accidentally met Nana's eyes from across the room.

Now _she_ was a smart woman. She got how those three practically worshipped Charlie, even if Charlie didn't. She'd seemed nice too, if quick with the hand-slapping. Will would bet she understood how Charlie's sisters loved him, but asked for too much from him sometimes, like he was their older brother and their best friend and their father too, and how Charlie needed somebody to love him just as Charlie, and maybe how Will so wanted to be that somebody.

Maybe he could learn to... grow vegetables, or wear plaid that wasn't Burberry, or speak fluent Spanish. He could DVR _Dora_ and learn about backpacks and monkeys in a whole new language.

“Will has been helping cook,” Katia dropped that nugget of information out of nowhere and Will didn't think it was his imagination that the volume of the talk around them lowered so people could listen. Charlie turned to Will, both of his eyebrows up, and Will's hands flew out on their own. One hit Missy's glass of wine, the other caught it before it made a mess.

“I just stirred something. Oh my god! Oops! Sorry. I haven't even had a drink yet. I mean, well, not that I'd have one this earl.... Oh. Well I would actually.” He was pretty sure he'd just insulted everyone there who was currently holding booze. “I love a drink after all. Shut up, Will,” he told himself and clasped his hands in front of him. But the room was still so quiet. He couldn't just leave it like that. He coughed and tried again. “Did you have fun outside, Charlie? You're walking okay, but I packed your cane. It's in the trunk of the car if you need it. What did you do out there? I was picturing you like, I don't know, with cattle or something. Like _The Sundowners_.”

He could have slapped a hand over his mouth. They all thought he was an idiot now, he could tell. Either an airhead or a crazy person. He couldn't help it, talking was what he did when flustered, and now Charlie's whole family thought he was a flaky, useless _butterfly_ and Charlie was calm, sane, and normal.

Will felt his shoulders droop. “That's a movie,” he finished, staring at Charlie with wide eyes, not blinking. Charlie did not look happy. His scowl was setting like a thousand new worry lines into his face. Will glanced away, then back, trying to smile.

“Will,” Charlie said, and Will stopped. He knew that tone of voice, he _shivered_ for that tone of voice, but it was just reflex, it had to be. They were in a room full of Charlie's relatives, in his _grandmother's house_ after all. Charlie wouldn’t be using _that voice_ on him here.

But Will sat back to obey it, wobble and all, and kept his hands together. He really wanted to apologize, or explain, and he would the moment they were alone. It wasn't his fault, _anybody_ would act crazy with this many eyes on them. It was worse than being sized up in a club, and yet Charlie complained about those. Typical. Sometimes the man was so confused about the way of things.

Will bit _that_ snippy comment back just in time, but made a sour face at the effort.

“I think I need some air. It's hot in here... with the food... and the stares,” he mumbled. He was waving his hands again too, but damn, these women. He just wanted to take Charlie and go home.

He abruptly stood up and ignored the startled expressions on Charlie's sisters' faces.

“Will,” Charlie said again, and Will scowled up at him for about half a second, unhappy and not caring who saw it. But the cloud lifted when Charlie spoke. “Come on.” Charlie jerked his head sideways, then turned to head back toward the door outside. His sisters all seemed shocked as they watched their brother walk away from them. 

Meanwhile, Will was left with the option of staying put with them or running the gauntlet and being with Charlie—possibly even being with Charlie alone. Just the two of them.

Decision made, Will streaked past _Tia_ Rosa and her fried hair and didn't even excuse himself to Charlie's sisters. He did however pause by Nana, who gave him the same look she had months ago, as if she was waiting.

He had no idea for what, and thought about asking, but the moment he and Charlie were outside he choked as the freezing air hit him. Damn. He'd left his coat inside and so had Charlie.

“I can't go back in there yet,” Will insisted quickly. “They're talking about me, Charlie. They hate me. I can tell.” It all came streaming out. “Look at you! You're so... you! And they love you and I'm just some hairdresser _butterfly_ apparently.” He had no idea what he was saying and flung his hands left and right. “That's it! I should go. I'm telling you, Charlie, they hate me. Like that one with the perm and the other one with the six kids and the good taste in shoes, and your sisters....”

He stopped when he noticed the puzzled look on Charlie's face. There was anger there too for some reason, flickering into view and then disappearing.

“Mariposa?” Charlie sounded pissed. When he put up a hand to rub his forehead, Will realized Charlie hadn't been calm at all in that kitchen, he had just appeared that way. His shoulders had hitched up. Will could see the tension in them now that he wasn’t distracted by the stares from a dozen nosy bitches. Only Charlie would sit through his sisters talking about nothing important when he had other things on his mind. “I can guess who said that. Will....” Charlie frowned, then looked over at the kids playing a few yards away. His mouth twisted before he met Will's gaze again. “Come on.”

“But, Charlie....” Will thought his protest would have been more convincing if Charlie hadn't grabbed his hand and started leading him to the back of the house, if Will had, in any way actually attempted to resist him. But they were _holding hands_. He may have given Charlie an adoring look of his own.

The was a door in the back that was open like the one in the kitchen, so the smokers had a place to smoke away from the kids, and he and Charlie slipped back inside that way, then went down the hall, skirting the living room before heading upstairs. The uncles and cousins noticed. Charlie didn't take the time to acknowledge them, though Will tried a nervous wave that got no reaction.

“They think I'm crazy and useless in the kitchen and that you're too good for me,” Will hissed the moment they were upstairs and out of earshot. “And it's no wonder, I mean….”

He shut up when Charlie tugged him into a small, unused-looking bedroom. Charlie closed the door behind them, then gently but firmly pulled Will into the room's tiny adjoining bathroom. He closed that door too, then locked it.

“Okay,” Charlie said seriously, as he made Will face him, “you mean… what? What the hell happened in the kitchen?”

Will took a deep breath.

“I can't cook.” So... okay... when he put it like that, it did seem kind of stupid.

“You can't cook.” Charlie, of course, repeated it. The bastard, with his cop tricks to defuse situations. Will started to tick off things on his fingers because he did have a legitimate point here. Somewhere.

“They adore you. All of them, even that cu—aunt of yours. They _love_ you, Charlie, and I'm a twink with amazing hair. I'm not.... You're... you know, like the _man_ and everything.” Charlie flinched. Will gave him a curious look but then went back to his explanation. “I... didn't get that before.” Whoa, was his heart racing. “But now I....” He pulled his hand away as he trailed off.

A moment later, Charlie cleared his throat.

“Will,” he said softly, in that way that meant Will so had to look up at him. Charlie was scowling, like Will was some sort of... _perp_ or something.

“What?” Will scowled right back and Charlie lifted his chin. It made him look intimidating and thoughtful all at once.

“Turn around and face the sink,” Charlie ordered, in _that_ tone, that tone _again_ , and it couldn't be real even if Charlie was suddenly flushed to his ears.

“What?” Maybe Will was crazy. Charlie couldn't actually be suggesting....

“Will.” Charlie's voice echoed the through the small room though he hadn't raised it. “Get against the sink.”

Will's feet took him back until he hit the sink, but he didn't turn. He was studying Charlie's face, the color in his cheeks, that deep down flare in his eyes that was getting hotter. He meant it.

“But….” Will couldn't breathe right anymore. Charlie had locked the door, he'd _planned_ this, and Will hadn't had to tease him first or coax him or ruffle his Charlie-feathers. “But you said never. You said _no sex in my abuela's house, Will_ ,” Will recited in a stern imitation and Charlie stepped forward. Will got his hands up even before Charlie put one of his fantastic moves on him and spun him around. Will stuck his hands flat on the cold porcelain to steady himself and waited.

He raised his head and saw himself in the mirror, his eyes already wide and dark, then Charlie behind him. Above him. Damn they looked good together.

“You made me promise,” Will reminded him in a rasp. He wanted a drink, but felt like he'd already had one. Three. A whole bottle. He arched his back without being told to. Charlie was frowning at his reflection, the “What am I going to do with you, my darling Will?” look on his face—which it so was, even if Charlie had never said that phrase out loud.

“It turns out there are exceptions for emergencies.” Charlie still seemed calm. It was so infuriating that Will closed his eyes and pushed forward to rub himself against the sink. By infuriating, he'd clearly meant fucking sexy.

“Uh... emergencies?” Charlie's breath was on the back of Will’s neck and his big, wonderful hands only stayed at Will's hips for a second before sliding to his belt, his fly. Oh God, they were in Charlie's _Nana's_ house, his _family_ was downstairs and Charlie was pushing Will's pants down. Then his briefs.

“What did they do to you?” Charlie was rough. Will opened his eyes to take in the sight of Charlie's blush again, and then jerked forward at the slap of Charlie's palm against his ass.

A moment after that and he was biting his lip, the lower half of his body hot and pounding. Charlie didn't wait, but spanked him again, hard.

The moan slipped out, and Will dropped his head, staring at the white porcelain, so cold when his skin was burning.

That had _hurt_ , hurt so good, but the sharp crack was still startling. Charlie normally had to build up to something like this, taking his time, getting comfortable before he was _ever_ this forceful, making Will _insane_ with how slow he could be. He squirmed just at the thought and was rewarded with another firm-handed spank.

“That….” Charlie cut Will off after one word, moving, and it had to the back of his hand on the other side of Will’s ass. Fuck. It was loud too, as loud as the strangled sounds escaping Will's mouth. The others would hear, Will tried to tell himself. Probably. Maybe. Okay, Will didn't really care if anyone else heard, but Charlie would. “That _hurts_ , Charlie.” He could hear the purr in his own words, sweet and hungry for more, because Jesus, yes, it hurt, and he loved it, and he sucked in a breath before Charlie's hand answered him. He knew Charlie would stop for that if he didn't move, so he pushed his hands down flat and then lifted his head once again to look at Charlie through the mirror. He was asking.

“We only have a few minutes.” Charlie's jaw was locked tight, which meant he liked how Will looked right now. But he didn't pause to be gentle, didn't do anything he usually did when he felt this kinky. He looked back at Will and then hit him again.

Will's breath stuttered out at the streak down his spine, the pull in his balls. He wasn't supposed to move, but they were in _this_ house and they were _alone_ , and Charlie, _Charlie_ , was spanking him. He wanted more. He wanted to cry or moan or at least slide down and just let Charlie do what he wanted, but he held still, fought to be good and not twist or shudder too much at the building pleasure. It mingled with the pain, all heat and sparks and a melting feeling in his blood.

Fuck. Charlie was such a strict bastard.

“What....” He could barely speak. With each careful stroke the burn was spreading, hotter and sharper. Charlie was so stern. “What did I do, Daddy?” Not that this was punishment, not at all.

This time Charlie _did_ pause to sweep a long, slow touch over the stinging cheeks of Will's ass. Then he inhaled and Will curled his fingers into the sink's edge as he absorbed another smack. Loud. Good. _Insanely_ good as it roared through him. He hoped Charlie's hand was imprinted on him, red and white and stark. He thought of those people downstairs and almost laughed. Charlie's attention was all his. Bitches.

“You tell me.” Charlie glared, but he was breathing hard. He was just as turned on, Will knew it, and purred one more time for Charlie taking such a firm hand to him. He wasn't going to pretend he didn't love it.

The next slap pushed Will forward. He gasped, then spread his legs, arching his back. Fuck, he was hard. If he got any closer to the sink it was going to get painful in a bad way.

“You said…. You said, uh….” Words, he needed words that weren't “Please, Charlie” and “Holy shit, I love you.” “You said I _wasn't_ even to _think_ about, uh, _this_ , uh, sex, I mean, _here_.” His voice cracked, rose and fell when Charlie didn't stop, jumped with every delicious tingle and echoing slap.

The flush was spreading all over his ass, down to his thighs, making him writhe when he should have been still. Merry fucking Christmas to him, Charlie had _never_ done it this way before, and, fuck, he liked it.

“This isn't sex,” Charlie informed him, anger threaded in his voice, real anger, and Will licked his dry lips and heaved a breath, trying to think of anything that wasn't how masterful Charlie was. “This is a lesson.”

“A... _fuck_!” Will opened and closed his eyes. He was red everywhere, his skin, behind his eyes. Hot and hard. “A lesson?” Each smack was noisy, just forceful enough. The others were going to hear, but if Charlie didn't care, Will didn’t. He wanted them to know, and moaned, not keeping it down even a little bit.

“Yes.” Charlie spoke through gritted teeth. “Repeat after me.”

“Fuck.” Will _tried_ to focus, tried to look away from the mirror image of the two of them, his mouth, open and pink as he gasped for air, Charlie strong and strict. He couldn't, felt his cock jerk every time Charlie's hand landed on his skin. He wanted to touch himself, wanted to come, hard and fast. But. But he sucked in air and waited for Charlie.

He shivered, and Charlie's other hand slid to his shoulder, made sure he stayed still.

“Okay,” Will finally agreed and nearly stumbled at the surprising flash of Charlie's smile. It was gone in a second, and then Charlie was urging him down, down so Will couldn't fall even if he tried, his arms against the sink, his face almost to the porcelain. “Yes.”

Charlie's voice rumbled through him like surround sound. “Say—Charlie loves me and that's all that matters.”

“What?” Will heard himself asking, his own breath damp on his warm cheeks, but braced himself, moving his feet farther apart. That had been stupid and he knew it.

Charlie's response was gratifyingly swift and incredibly hot; he swung his arm back and when his hand connected, it was like pure _heat_ , and then he didn't slow, but went back to his steady pounding of Will's ass. If that wasn't love, Will really didn't know what was.

He opened his mouth, turned his head toward the hand still at his shoulder. Charlie's grip on him wasn't even tight. If he took it away, Will wouldn't have moved an inch.

“Charlie loves me and that's all that matters.” He didn't need to ask again, but at the quavering in his voice Charlie didn't stop. Will sucked in hoarse lungfuls of air. “Charlie loves me and oh God, fuck, Charlie, that's it.” He breathed out, his fractured words making him shake his head, inhale to try again. He had to say it. “Charlie loves me and that's all that matters.” His voice dropped though Charlie hadn't told him to be quiet.

It was like Charlie _wanted_ the world to know. Will closed his eyes, his posture easing as he slid down, his body loose even where it was hot, moving where Charlie wanted it to go. Charlie wanted _him_ to know too. And he did now. Will sighed as his thoughts spun around and around one easy, little phrase. That was all there was.

“Charlie loves me and that's all that matters,” he repeated, his voice thick and soft, once and then again, and again, only stopping when Charlie took his hand away.

It was just a second, not even that, and then Charlie was pulling Will up and against his body, and his hands were running over Will's stomach, his thighs. They were hot too, somehow, warmer than Will was. One settled at his hip, yanking him flush against the bulge in Charlie's pants, the other slid to his cock and began to jack him, slowly.

Charlie was being _slow_ again. Will felt himself twitch before he fell back into his heat, and then opened his eyes when Charlie pressed a kiss under his ear. He was gentle now, again, and Will ached and shivered, turning into the kiss and letting Charlie hold him up. He twitched again, helplessly, and then moaned when Charlie rocked against him, his hard dick prodding Will's sore ass.

He couldn't... he wouldn't say no if Charlie wanted to fuck him here, bare, dry. Charlie had to know that. Will needed him to know, and moaned when Charlie took a moment to flick his nipples under his shirt, teasing him. Oh, Charlie knew, and Charlie was driving him crazy instead, whispering as he stroked him, as he pushed against Will's stinging ass.

“And what else, Will?” Charlie was kissing him, his throat, his hair, and Will wanted his mouth too, wanted Charlie to kiss him, to put his cock in him.

“So... unfair....” He managed in a slur, barely keeping his eyes open, but he let his hands go up and around whatever part of Charlie he could reach. His shoulders, his neck. Charlie was hot to the touch too, and he was watching Will in the mirror. He wouldn't... his hands wouldn't stop. He was amazing.

“And I love you,” Will admitted, moving his head back for Charlie's mouth and then arching up when Charlie gave him permission, squeezed his cock. He was coming, suddenly, sharply, just like that.

It _hurt_ , hurt so good. Will gasped and Charlie kissed him again, under his ear, and the evil, fabulous man was smiling.

“And that's all that matters,” he told Will in a grunt, all Charlie-dark and intense, smile or no smile, and stroked Will's cock until Will finally whimpered.

 _Whimpered_. Because it hurt too much and Charlie had to stop.

“If I were a bell, I'd ringing.” Will exhaled, falling back against the man, _his_ man. Charlie made a little snorting noise as if he thought Will was funny, but Will decided he didn't care. He was too relaxed now to bother with such things.

“I thought that might do the trick,” Charlie commented, kissing him one last time before moving and setting Will carefully on top of the closed toilet. Will wouldn't have complained, he felt all nicely boneless and warm, but his ass was burning and the toilet lid was _cold_.

He opened his eyes but managed to swallow his whining when he saw Charlie cleaning up all Will's jizz from around the sink. The water must have felt soothing and cool, because when Charlie was done he held one pink hand under the faucet. The tips of his ears were pink too. This _had_ embarrassed him, but he'd done it anyway.

Okay, so sex truly was the fastest way to calm Will down. Charlie thought he was so smart.

“I didn't need to relax _that_ much.” Will thought he'd been pretty together, actually. But whoa, his words came out sticky and thick, husky from so much moaning. His cock was still tingling.

Charlie's single glance said that he had and Will tried to seem offended. “But those bitches really don't like me. It's true, I could tell.”

Charlie turned off the water and dried his hands. He was being deliberate, trying to be careful with what he said. Will leaned back—gingerly—and didn't bother to cover up. His pose made Charlie smile for about thirty seconds. Then something, probably the “bitches” made him frown. Will didn't apologize.

“Some don't.” Charlie finally acknowledged. He was always honest, but Will made a shocked noise anyway. “But it isn't you, it's….” He gestured back and forth between them, “ _this_.” Which was Charlie-speak for ‘gay’. “But the rest...they just don't know _you_ yet. And once you stop sitting there like a scared bunny....” Will huffed, Charlie ignored him. “You're irresistible. You've told me so yourself.”

Will almost, _almost_ , gave in just because Charlie was quoting a movie at him to make him smile.

“Flatterer.” Will knew a line when he heard one. But. “Go on.”

Charlie shortened the distance before Will could comment on that too, and Will lifted his head to keep looking in Charlie's eyes as Charlie loomed over him. Whatever was on his face, Will hoped it was all invitation, made Charlie's lips curve up a little again.

“Do you want to know what they were saying, about you? About us? You could always ask.” Charlie's light tone fell away enough that Will frowned for him.

“What? That I have gorgeous hair and a perfectly spankable ass?”

“No. Well, not the ass part.” Charlie was totally serious. Will wanted to eat him up. “They said we were like... newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds?” Will had a feeling he'd said that either too loud or too shocked, because Charlie winced and glanced down. Will's heart decided to start pounding again.

“Yes.” Charlie was testy. “Is that a problem?”

 _Aw_. Will saw it now, the nerves that had made Charlie's shoulders so hunched and tense had been because of that word. He’d been so worried about what Will would think about that word that his hands were tight fists at his sides. Will grabbed them, then jumped into sudden motion as his brain caught up with his eyes.

Charlie hadn't undressed himself, not even a zipper, and he hadn't come. The sizable bulge in front of Will's face was both pretty and obvious.

“Oh,” he exhaled, then reached with both hands for Charlie's fly, sitting up as he did. Charlie's hands landed on top of his and stopped him.

“No, I don't need to. It's fine.” Charlie scowled and so did Will. Charlie knew his thoughts on that word. _Fine_ was banned in their house.

“You have two seconds and then I'm sucking you dry.” Will narrowed his eyes, only too aware that Charlie would stutter for days or just say _nothing_ if he could get away with it.

“This was about you,” Charlie pushed out. The pink went to flaming red. “And this is _my grandmother's_ house. I can't.”

“I can come here but you can't? You can _spank_ me here but you can't _come_?” Will could argue or he could laugh. He chose both, sort of, puffing indignantly against Charlie's crotch and clinging when Charlie made a small, turned on sound but stepped back.

Honestly, like teenaged Charlie hadn't masturbated here. Probably in this very bathroom. It gave Will a new appreciation for the towels and rugs around them.

“And they're going to be missing us if we stay any longer.” Charlie liked to pretend he was rational and concerned with what people thought of him. How could Will have forgotten that? He glared up anyway and didn't move. He failed to see how this wouldn't enhance Charlie's reputation. All those people downstairs needed to know he was the man in all ways.

“No, Charlie, that's what you always do. You take care of everyone else first, even me. And no,” he put a hand up when Charlie opened his mouth to be a smarty-pants, “I'm not complaining. I mean, how could I?” He wriggled, all achy and sensitive. Charlie's attention focused sharply on him. He was still aroused and with everything that had just happened, Will shivered again, breathed hot against Charlie's trapped cock. Charlie made a choked noise. “But I want to make you feel like this. I want to help you.” Will stuck out his bottom lip as he looked up. That usually worked, and neither of them wanted to fight about this again.

Charlie stared, his eyes lighting up when Will wet his lip too, but then he coughed.

“This is a silly argument to be having.” He didn't say the _especially here and now_ part. Will heard it anyway. Charlie stepped in closer, but before Will could grab him, he bent down and wrapped his arms around Will to pull him to his feet.

“Your hip!” Will warned, though Charlie just shook his head and looked him over. Thoroughly too. He was smiling. It was so unfair. It was why Will had stopped asking to help Charlie, and usually just did it, otherwise he could never resist the smile.

“Trust me. This is enough. Being in here is the most relaxed I've been all day. Maybe in the past twenty-four hours.” They hadn't been alone except for time in the car and when they'd been sleeping. Charlie was playing dirty but Will sighed and listened. Charlie's blush hadn’t gone away. “You... you give me too much.”

He was so quiet and honest that Will had to hold still. He didn't think Charlie was talking about the tie or any other gift that came in a box. He was talking about this, everything between them, the tricky, sexy bastard. Will didn't see what he gave Charlie that compared in any way to what Charlie gave to him, but Charlie was looking at Will like Will had given him the world and his closed mouth said he wasn't about to explain himself any further.

“But,” Will tried to grope him to illustrate how _not_ relaxed Charlie was, to show him how much more Will could give him, and Charlie caught his hand before it made contact.

“I wanted to do it this way.” Charlie's voice got gravelly, as though he _never_ got anything he wanted. It made Will pull back a fraction. They both knew that Will had just given him everything he'd asked for against that sink. Will loved to do what Charlie wanted when he wanted it. He’d do it more if Charlie would let him, but Charlie’s demands were always more about Will than about himself.

That had occurred to Will before, but never when he’d been in the same house as Charlie’s incredibly demanding family. Maybe, he thought slowly, maybe Charlie was aware of how much his family asked from him after all. Maybe Will listening to him made him happy. But it still didn’t seem like enough. Charlie should ask for more from him.

Will tightened his mouth and Charlie—pure evil—kissed him there.

“We'll be alone tonight, at home,” he promised. “But my _abuela_ is downstairs.” For Charlie to speak Spanish to him meant he was truly squirming. His childish embarrassment made Will angle his head.

“Okay, Daddy,” he agreed, watching the reluctant excitement spark in Charlie's expression; he didn't fight the title anymore, Will had noticed. “Tonight, no matter how tired you are, you come _twice_.” At home. God, he wanted to be there right now.

“Do I have to go back downstairs?” He blinked up, pleading, and put his arms around Charlie's shoulders. Aroused or not, Charlie actually _was_ relaxed. All loose-limbed and warm. He sighed when Will leaned in for a hug and didn't fight Will reaching up to smooth his forehead wrinkle. “Prince Charlie,” Will murmured.

“What?” Charlie asked then shook his head to dismiss the question. He lowered his voice, to _that_ voice. “They like you. But if they act up, I don't want you to forget.”

“Forget wh-at?” The word shot out of him when Charlie's hands cupped his bare ass, squeezed where he was still tender and hot, crushing him to Charlie's cock.

“Charlie loves me and that's all that matters,” Will whimpered—again—and then ground himself against Charlie before Charlie groaned and pushed him away.

“Will, please.” Charlie, imaginary prince or not, seemed ready to whimper too. “Go back down and try to have fun. They really do like you. Well, most of them. Nana does, she told me. And my sisters did too.”

Will pouted as he straightened his clothes. Though he liked Nana. And Charlie's sisters… as individuals, maybe not in a group. Fuck the rest of them.

“Only for you would I do this, Charlie.” He glared in the mirror as he washed his face and hands with cold water. Charlie gave him a half smile.

“I understand,” he said, dry and droll and all calm-looking again except for the present in his pants that Will was going to unwrap later.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie,” Will told him, checking his reflection before swooping up for one last kiss, a good one, all shortened breaths and tongue and Charlie insistently pushing against him before he remembered himself.

In retribution, though it was all Charlie's fault, Charlie swatted Will's ass he turned to leave, sharp and sweet and teasing, his hand lingering, just a little, because they had hours until they could leave and be alone again.

Will was so busy plotting out whether Charlie would have _more_ or _less_ driving anxiety if Will blew him while they were on the way home that he just grinned at the uncles and cousins as he passed them. Though he made sure to walk with a limp; Charlie could thank him later.

He went back outside, let the winter air cool him some more and explain away his red face as he reentered the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, the ladies' conversation paused as he came in.

“Merry Christmas!” he told them brightly, and, of all of them, _Tia_ Rosa of the perm was the one who blushed like she knew exactly why his voice was thick and he was grinning so widely. “You know, I could do your hair. I'm kind of a genius,” he offered generously as he moved around her, back toward his wobbly stool, which was still unoccupied. If she turned into that old dizzer Mrs. Danvers from _Rebecca_ , well at least he could tell Charlie he'd tried.

“Have fun?” Katia's eyebrows were way up. His coat was still over the back of the chair. Obviously he hadn't been outside for very long. But she ignored that and looked around for her brother. “Where's Charlie?”

“Mmm. Yes I did,” Will answered with a stretch and he would swear he heard “ _Escandelo_!” He knew that word and it made him grin with sudden excitement. That was it, what else he could give Charlie. Charlie _needed_ some scandal, _and_ someone to take the heat for him. “Charlie's taking a break right now….” and would be until his hard on went away. And he had better not be taking care of that himself, after making Will wait like this.

Will focused back on Katia, all of the sisters, really, then tried to sound friendly and innocent. “But _I_ can help you if you need something.”

Ann made a shocked noise and then their grandmother laughed. _Laughed_. She did it just like Charlie, rare and special.

Nana stared at Will for a moment, then turned back to her cooking as though nothing unusual or scandalous had happened at all. A few of the older women turned with her, probably thinking that Will was crazy.

He shrugged, not really caring. That he could understand. Everyone thought he was nuts before they got to know him. Then he won them over with charm and humor and sometimes, his perfect ass.

But he winced as he took a seat, breathing out for one long, happy, aching moment before settling down. He smiled into three very suspicious and confused faces.

Charlie loved him, and that was all that mattered.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Because someone asked me, here are some rough translations:
> 
> Mariposa: Means butterfly, and also a very rude and insulting (Mexican, not so much Nor Cal Mexican-American) term for a male prostitute, usually a transvestite.  
> Buen trabajo. Gracias. Good work. Thank you.  
> Siguen siendo como recienes casados. Desean solamente ser solos. They are like newlyweds. They only wish to be alone.  
> Debemos enseñar a William cocinar. We must teach William to cook.


End file.
